


i was calling (for the last time)

by Lilaciliraya



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Bullying, Case Fic, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Gen, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, POV Second Person, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Sexual Assault, SPENCER'S POV but just in second person, Secrets, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Abuse, Team as Family, kind of but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 16:41:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7765336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilaciliraya/pseuds/Lilaciliraya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he walks into the station your whole body jerks into itself. Your head starts spinning and your heart feels empty and your eyes start to burn because you can’t make them blink and you don’t know when your mouth went slack but no matter how much you want it to it won’t snap itself back shut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i was calling (for the last time)

**Author's Note:**

> title from you are a memory- message to bears. I listened to that song on repeat for like an hour while I wrote this so I figured it deserved a little credit. I dedicated basically no time to the case in this so if you're into that I'm sorry it's mostly just Spencer.

You still think about it sometimes. The goal post incident. And sometimes you imagine what it would be like to tell someone, sometimes you imagine you let out your secret in that moment in Owen’s room. You think about how you would have told Morgan, if you’d told the truth. 

You would have said that you were in the library when Harper Hillman told you that Alexa Lisbon wanted to meet you behind the field house. That when you went to see her the entire football team was with her, and that they did strip you naked and tie you to the goal post. That so many kids just stood there watching while you begged them to stop until they got bored and just left you there.

And then you would have told him how you got off the post; you’d have told him about Mr. Navarro, your AP Literature teacher. About how he looked at you and about how relieved you were that he had found you. You’d have told him about when you realized, when you recognized that look on his face and that relief turned into terror. You would have told him that he touched you and he didn’t stop until your voice was too useless to beg anymore.

You probably wouldn’t have told him about how eventually you just gave in and went limp and cried silently and counted constellations, because even the truth only goes so far. But you would have told him that it was Mr. Navarro that cut you lose in the end. That it was midnight when you finally got home and walked in to find your mom having one of her episodes. She hadn’t even realized you were late. You wouldn’t have told him how long you sat in the shower, but by then you would have told him enough.

You would have let him comfort you after that, you like to imagine. And you would have thought about how it was the next day that you decided it would all be a secret, because you didn’t want to be taken from your mother, even if she couldn’t take care of you.

You would have tried to remember how you felt in your AP Literature class every day when you told yourself you had to stay quiet so you could take care of her. You would have tried to remember how you felt after Mr. Navarro was sure you would never say a word and he started keeping you after school every Friday. 

You would have tried to remember because with Morgan’s arm around your shoulders maybe it wouldn’t hurt so bad. But you didn’t tell Morgan the truth. So you don’t know if it would have done any good at all.

........

You know that it would have gone better if the first person to find out your secret heard it like that. But you never told anyone, and now it’s too late. 

Because the BAU has been invited in on a case in Las Vegas, Nevada, and the victims are all young boys who look a little too much like you, and they were all found with their ties askew and their uniforms torn open, and your team knows what that means. And with just a little bit of digging it is revealed that they all attended the same school. 

The school they went to, you would have recognized it even without your eidetic memory, because it’s the same school that you attended and it’s the same school that employed Mr. Navarro. It’s the school with the old worn brick sign in the back that you stared at through the window every Friday after school, and it’s your fault that all of these boys were killed. 

Because you never told anyone after it happened and you never told anyone after he did it again and you never told anyone after your mother was no longer an issue and you never told anyone after you joined the FBI and you never told anyone even after your friends made it clear that they would care. And now 3 more boys are hurt and now these boys are dead. All because you never told. But you could tell them now. You should. But you just can’t make yourself do it. 

……..

On the jet the team discusses the profile, and you try to operate on autopilot. You try to work the case as fast as you can to make up for the fact that you could have stopped the unsub by now. You don’t share everything you know. You don’t act different from how you usually do. You pretend that everything is perfectly fine, just like you did in high school. 

When the jet lands you get settled at the local police station. You work the geographic profile but it’s clear that they were all taken at their school. You let the team chase down every good lead because you can’t bring yourself to point them in the right direction. But even without much of your help, the team eventually finds Peter Navarro. There is no solid evidence so they will need a confession, but he fits the profile so perfectly that you think everyone on the team is finally as sure as you are about who the unsub is. 

And when they head out to bring him in you stay behind, wondering how a man who once seemed so powerful could really be so routine and pathetic underneath. You don’t know how to process the sudden shift in perception so instead you focus on preparing yourself to see the man who inspired your career. You can’t let anything slip now.

……..

When he walks into the station your whole body jerks into itself. Your head starts spinning and your heart feels empty and your eyes start to burn because you can’t make them blink and you don’t know when your mouth went slack but no matter how much you want it to it won’t snap itself back shut. You don’t know why you have no control over your body but for 17 whole seconds you’re absolutely certain that somebody else has taken it over and rendered you completely helpless in your own skin. 

But your memory reminds you that that feeling is just an echo of what you felt the last 58 times your brain registered that specific visual input, the stiff line of his body, and you finally look away from the man who destroyed you but hasn’t yet even registered your presence. 

You hear your name in a soft question but you can’t move again because this time it’s the panic that’s taken over. You try to breathe but everything is fuzzy and far away and you can’t close your eyes or your mouth or suck in a damn breath and you think you’re going to die as you sway there alone. And then you aren’t alone and the person that called your name is holding both of your shoulders in his hands and it reminds you of how he grabbed you on the football field while you were tied to that goal post. Except this time you aren’t tied so when you collapse in on yourself nothing stops your body from showing it. 

You curl up in the middle of the damn police station with your colleagues all watching and it registers but too slow so you sit their with your dumb mouth wide open and your eyes focus just enough to show you that you’re making a scene. You draw in a breath and lift your chin to look Morgan in the eye. 

And you chuckle a little at that. Because you were always going to tell Morgan, weren’t you. So when you get up and pretend like nothing happened you run you fingers across his wrist and then apologize quietly. He looks at you like he knows too much.

……..

They don’t let you talk to him but they seem pretty intent on talking to you. You refuse to speak to any of them about it, insisting that you’re fine and that you just had a bout of vertigo. Nobody believes you but they leave it alone. 

When Navarro starts talking it’s all but forgotten. They found evidence at his house, a whole closet full of little uniforms. Once Navarro realized he wasn’t walking away he couldn’t resist telling stories to anyone who would listen. Everyone who isn’t working on identifying all of the boys that the recovered uniforms belonged to is watching Navarro. 

He says that there are only two types of boys, the ones who hate him and the ones who hate themselves. He says that if you can tell which are which beforehand it saves a lot of trouble. Because the three boys he killed weren’t the only boys he hurt. They were just the only boys who hated him more than themselves, and those boys are the ones who would have told. 

Navarro delights in the flash of anger Hotch shows at that revelation. It makes you sick. There are more there are more there are more and you could have saved them. You run to the bathroom before you can make a mess on the floor and heave coffee and acid into the toilet. 

When you run your hands through your hair you realize that they are shaking. You don’t know how much longer you can handle this, but you walk back to the observation room. You have no idea how to explain this to the team. But then Morgan bursts in and you don’t have to anymore.

……..

Garcia identified the rest of the boys. Everyone shuffles out into the main work space and looks to Morgan, who holds a stack of school pictures. There are so many you almost run back to the bathroom. And then he starts putting the pictures up on the board, reading the names as he goes. 

You watch his face carefully. Right before he puts the last picture up he looks at you and then to the floor. He can’t even make eye contact with you when he pins your picture up there with the others for everyone to see. And he finishes his list with a fragile, “Spencer Reid.” 

You turn and walk out. Slowly. Calmly. You can hear a quiet chaos erupt behind you. 

You close the door on your way out. The office you hole yourself up in doesn’t have an analog clock, so you settle for staring at the blank wall. You wait. You guess that after officers are assigned to talk to the families of these boys the team will find you and they will want to talk, so you busy yourself with finishing up the case and packing up. Nobody gets a word in until you’re back on the jet heading home. 

By then even you don’t remember what it was like before. You’re torn open now.

……..

They let Morgan approach you first, figuring the common understanding might help. You cut him off and address the whole team. 

You apologize to start with. You apologize for not telling the team and solving the case as fast as possible. For knowing who the unsub was and protecting him, in a way that was really only ever meant to protect you. And then you tell them. 

You fill them in on what you told Morgan, the whole incident, how you were in the library when Harper Hillman told you that Alexa Lisbon wanted to meet you behind the field house. That when you went to see her the entire football team was with her, that they stripped you naked and tied you to the goal post. That so many kids just stood there watching while you begged them to stop until they got bored and just left you there. 

And then you tell them all how you got off the post; you tell them about Mr. Navarro, who’s going to prison now. About how he looked at you and about how you realized, how you recognized that look and how you knew what he was going to do. You tell them that he touched you and that you begged for him to stop too but he didn’t listen either. You tell them how you realized that no one ever listens. 

You tell them that it was Mr. Navarro that cut you lose in the end. That it was midnight when you finally got home and walked in to find your mom having one of her episodes. She hadn’t even realized you were late. You don’t tell them how long you sat in the shower, but by then you’ve already told them enough. 

You tell them about every Friday after school in Mr. Navarro's classroom and the window and the old worn brick sign. You tell them that you were one of the boys that hated themselves and that you never told a soul. You tell them how you just wanted to forget, and you tell them about how much that never worked. 

But with your family’s arms all around your shoulders it doesn’t hurt quite as bad.


End file.
